No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 108

◎Prelude to the Grand Competition, Rewards Await◎

At the Eight Directions Inn, one must abide by the rules of the Eight Directions Inn.

Those present had already been looking for an excuse to investigate the inn’s secrets and stay longer, and the so-called "Polar Golden Silkworm" was merely a pretext.

Lu Jianwei proposed holding a grand competition, and they had no reason to refuse.

"Elder Meng, your sect’s physicians are highly skilled. Why not have them participate in this competition? They might even earn ten Benevolence Pearls."

Meng Ti'an: "..."

So this was the trap behind the free consultations!

He cupped his hands and said, "Manager Lu, Meng is at your disposal."

The details of the competition still needed to be announced to the other warriors in the inn. The date was set for two days later, and the rules would follow those of the previous Martial Alliance tournament, with slight modifications.

Previously, the competition had restrictions—participants had to be between fifteen and thirty-five years old, with cultivation levels between fourth and sixth rank.

This time, there would be no age limit, and seventh-rank warriors would also be allowed to compete.

"Unacceptable," Zhuang Wenqing shook his head. "Seventh-rank Martial Kings can spar without issue, but if they fight on a stage, even a slight misstep could injure bystanders with their inner energy."

Lu Jianwei: "No matter."

Two simple words shut him down.

Zhuang Wenqing could only smile and ask, "In that case, Hall Master Ying and Brother Yan could also participate?"

Ying Chen: "..."

As a peak seventh-rank warrior, he technically fell within the seventh-rank category.

Yan Buyou, the head of the Yan family, was not present and thus spared from the teasing.

"Why not?" Lu Jianwei smiled. "If they’re willing, they’re welcome to step onto the stage and offer guidance to the younger generation."

Ying Chen: "Manager Lu’s kindness is appreciated, but Ying must look after his disciples from the alliance and will not participate."

"Very well." Lu Jianwei nodded. "If there are no further objections, this meeting is adjourned."

The group rose and left the main courtyard, returning to their respective lodgings.

"Brother Ying," Zhuang Wenqing called out to Ying Chen midway, "Your son is a seventh-rank warrior. He could compete this time—with his skills, he’d surely take first place."

Ying Chen sighed and shook his head. "If he’s willing to participate, then I’ll take your words as a blessing."

"I wonder what rewards Manager Lu will offer." Zhuang Wenqing then turned to Xie Tongshu. "Brother Xie, have you seen Young Master Yan’s new saber? It looks even sharper than the treasured blades forged by the masters of Cangzhou."

Xie Tongshu replied indifferently, "I haven’t."

"Brother Xie, these past two days, many young disciples have been visiting your sect’s quarters. After seeing so many promising talents, who do you think would be the best match for Sect Leader He Lianxue’s daughter? The Martial Alliance’s Bian Xingzhou, or Zhao Rui of the Sky Pillar Hall?"

Xie Tongshu flicked his horsetail whisk, sending it coiling toward Zhuang Wenqing’s neck.

"Fighting is prohibited in the inn, Brother Xie. Calm down."

Xie Tongshu shot him a cold glare and withdrew the whisk, turning to leave.

"Brother Xie," Zhuang Wenqing suddenly leaned in close, transmitting his voice with inner energy, "Were you this cold-hearted when you betrayed your sworn brother to his death?"

Xie Tongshu froze, his face instantly paling.

Zhuang Wenqing chuckled and walked away, hands clasped behind his back.

——

Training Grounds

Yan Feicang’s muscles were taut as he blocked strike after strike, veins bulging on his arms, sweat pouring down his forehead.

His opponent’s attacks were swift and ruthless, raining down without mercy, leaving no room for error.

A sixth-rank late-stage warrior facing a seventh-rank late-stage opponent—the pressure was immense.

The warriors watching from below were thoroughly entertained.

A spar between the father and son of the Yan family was a rare sight indeed.

Yan Buyou’s "Raging Mountain" saber technique was like an enraged tiger—fierce and overwhelming, pressing Yan Feicang until he could barely breathe.

A year and a half ago, he would have been defeated long ago.

But he had witnessed the weight of "Overturning the World," the desolation of "Falling Blossoms," the brutality of "Western Gale," and the vastness of "Moonlit Clarity." Now, the "Raging Mountain" could no longer crush him so easily.

The "Crashing Waves" saber technique, refined under Lu Jianwei’s guidance, had become so exquisite that its flaws were nearly impossible to exploit.

Wave after wave surged forth, gradually overwhelming the towering mountain.

Yan Buyou’s eyes gleamed as he laughed heartily. "Good! You haven’t neglected your saber skills this past year!"

A single slash sent Yan Feicang stumbling back several steps under its sheer force.

"That’s enough." Yan Buyou sheathed his saber, his gaze lingering on Yan Feicang’s new blade. "You’ve had quite the fortune."

Yan Feicang panted for a moment before asking, "Just you?"

"A hundred taels is too expensive. I didn’t let the others waste their money," Yan Buyou said.

Yan Feicang shook his head. "It’s not a waste."

"I know it’s not for others, but we’re family. Do I really need to pay to spar with you?" Yan Buyou winked.

Yan Feicang: "..."

"What’s with that look? You’ve never managed a household—you don’t know the cost of firewood and rice."

"I do," Yan Feicang said coldly. "I’m a staff member here, not a guest."

Yan Buyou asked, "How much longer will you stay? The youngsters at home all want to see you."

"Oh."

"Jin’s boy is here too. Aren’t you going to meet him?"

"I have to stay here."

Yan Buyou nodded and patted his shoulder. "You’ve become much more disciplined. The inn hasn’t been a waste. I’m off."

With that, he strode away without looking back.

Yan Feicang continued accepting sparring requests from the other warriors.

——

Eight Directions Inn, Main Courtyard

After Zhuang Wenqing and the others left, a new guest arrived.

Yue Shu happened to be sweeping the courtyard and smiled in delight upon seeing him. "Young Master Jin, are you here to see Young Master Wen?"

Jin Poxiao strode forward with a hearty laugh. "The inn has changed so much I barely recognized it when I arrived. I knew Manager Lu was busy with the reopening and didn’t dare disturb her. I thought Brother Wen was staying in one of the smaller courtyards, so I asked the staff, but it turns out he’s still in the shared quarters."

The door to the shared quarters opened, and A'Nai wheeled Wen Zhuzhi out.

Sunlight fell across Wen Zhuzhi’s face, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed dazed, as if blinded by the light. But he quickly regained his composure and looked at Jin Poxiao.

Jin Poxiao, the young master of a merchant guild, appeared rough and straightforward at first glance, but he was sharp-witted beneath the surface.

He immediately noticed something amiss, but with others present in the courtyard, he held his tongue.

"Brother Jin, it’s been a while."

Jin Poxiao teased, "You’ve barely spent any time in Nanzhou this past year—most of it’s been here at the inn. How could I have seen you?"

"Manager Lu’s medical skills are exceptional," Wen Zhuzhi replied, changing the subject. "Is your father well?"

"Oh, he’s fine," Jin Poxiao said, puzzled. "He was just here earlier—didn’t you see him?"

Wen Zhuzhi: "The door was closed."

"Even if the door was closed, you should’ve heard him, right?"

"I was resting."

Jin Poxiao’s expression darkened. He grabbed the wheelchair and pushed Wen Zhuzhi back into the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Tell me the truth—has it gotten worse?"

Wen Zhuzhi: "Yes."

"What did Manager Lu say?"

"Life and death are fated. There’s no need to dwell on it." Wen Zhuzhi smiled reassuringly.

Jin Poxiao frowned. "What do you mean, 'fated'? Are you just going to accept dying like this? What about all the business you’ve built? What about A'Nai?"

"Jin—"

"Don’t call me that. I’m annoyed."

Wen Zhuzhi chuckled. "I have no regrets now. If that day truly comes, I’ll handle my affairs properly."

"What affairs?" Lu Jianwei’s voice came from outside the door.

Before Jin Poxiao could respond, he saw his friend swiftly wheel his chair toward the door, the wheels rolling with surprising speed.

"Lu... Manager Lu, you're here."

Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. "Young Master Jin, would you mind stepping aside for a moment? I have something to discuss with Young Master Wen."

"Ah? Oh." Jin Poxiao glanced at Wen Zhuzhi, then back at Lu Jianwei, before awkwardly replying, "Then I won’t disturb you two."

He stepped out of the room, making sure to close the door behind them.

In the backyard, A'Nai and Xue Guanhe were arguing over something, forcing Jin Poxiao to halt his steps before he could intervene.

He stared at the sky for a long moment before suddenly smacking his forehead.

What was he thinking? That couldn’t be possible!

"Young Brother Yue," he called out to Yue Shu, who was sweeping the floor, "Is there anything unusual between your Manager Lu and Brother Wen?"

Yue Shu looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"They’re alone in the room with the door closed. Isn’t that strange?"

"Manager Lu often gives Young Master Wen acupuncture treatments. It’s not strange at all."

"Oh, I see." Jin Poxiao forced a dry laugh.

Seemed like he really was overthinking things.

Inside the dormitory room, Lu Jianwei instructed Xiao Ke to soundproof the space, ensuring no one could eavesdrop on their conversation.

This wasn’t to guard against the elders in plain sight, but the clerks lurking in the shadows.

"What did you mean by 'arrangements for after my passing'?" Lu Jianwei pulled up a chair and sat across from Wen Zhuzhi.

Wen Zhuzhi replied, "He doesn’t know you can cure my poison, so I played along with his assumption."

"Earlier, you called me 'Manager Lu.'"

"That was only in front of others." Wen Zhuzhi’s expression turned serious. "Weiwei, I know you don’t care about gossip, but I don’t want you to become the subject of idle talk."

Lu Jianwei smiled. "I truly don’t care what others think, but I do care about what you think."

"What I think?"

"When do you think is the right time to make it public?"

"..."

"Can’t answer?"

"It’s not that." Wen Zhuzhi’s gaze deepened. "Weiwei, I want nothing more than to open that door right now and tell Jin Poxiao, the staff, even everyone in this inn, that you and I are bound for a lifetime together."

Lu Jianwei tilted her head. "Then what’s holding you back?"

"There are people watching you from the shadows. The situation isn’t resolved yet, and I don’t want to become a burden to you."

"You’re worried someone might use you against me." Lu Jianwei studied him. "Would you let yourself be used as leverage against me?"

"Never. But our relationship could still put you in a difficult position."

Lu Jianwei’s eyes curved in amusement. "You’ve thought this through thoroughly, but..."

"But what?"

"For Commander Pei to call himself a burden is rather self-deprecating."

Wen Zhuzhi admitted frankly, "Right now, my senses occasionally fail me. That’s a fatal weakness in battle."

Lu Jianwei explained, "Before the martial arts tournament, someone tried to use the Polar Golden Silkworm to force me away from the conflicts in the martial world—just like how they sent assassins controlled by the Gu King to cause chaos during the Gu God Festival."

"Now that the tournament is canceled, and you’ve gathered martial artists for a competition, the enemy won’t back down." Wen Zhuzhi smiled. "You’re using this as bait to lure them out."

"Exactly." Lu Jianwei gave him an approving look, pleased. "And most of the participants are Level 8 Martial Kings."

"What will happen if Level 8 Martial Kings get involved?"

Lu Jianwei didn’t mention the Yin-Yang Gu yet, only saying, "If chaos does break out, it’ll be a good opportunity for me to test my skills against them."

Wen Zhuzhi assumed she was simply seeking experience and didn’t press further.

"Among the elders who came earlier, there was one surnamed Xie from the Carefree Sect. Do you know him?"

"Xie Tongshu. He was once a close friend of my father."

Lu Jianwei nodded. "After all these years, he’s still only Level 8. His martial path must have been arduous."

For those with equal talent and skill, those with purer hearts progress faster in their cultivation, while those burdened with complicated thoughts face more obstacles.

"Weiwei, your safety is the priority now." Wen Zhuzhi took her hand. "Everything else can wait."

He didn’t want her taking risks for the Pei family’s affairs.

"Don’t worry."

Lu Jianwei knew exactly what mattered most.

She had stirred up such a commotion in Fengzhou precisely to wait for her prey. If they came, she’d profit. If they didn’t, she’d still gain.

The Yin-Yang Gu was one step away from evolving into a Gu King. All she had to do was wait for the enemy to make their move.

They had already sent a Level 7 Martial King last time. This time, it had to be at least a Level 8, right?

---

At the Carefree Sect’s quarters.

Xie Tongshu gathered his disciples after returning, his tone icy. "The competition will be held the day after tomorrow. Who among you wishes to participate?"

The disciples exchanged uneasy glances.

A competition? Held at the inn?

"Why the silence?" Xie Tongshu’s gaze grew colder. "No one wants to join?"

A chill ran down their spines.

What was wrong with Elder Xie?

Though usually reserved, he was at least composed. Why was he in such a foul mood now?

He Lianxue stepped forward. "I’ll participate."

Xie Tongshu acknowledged with a hum, barely glancing at her before scanning the others. "Anyone else?"

Encouraged by her example, several more disciples volunteered.

Xie Tongshu nodded, then gestured to He Lianxue. "You’ll handle the registrations."

"Understood."

Once his instructions were given, he retreated into his room and shut the door.

The disciples, afraid of being overheard, could only communicate through glances and gestures.

"Who angered Elder Xie?"

"He’s always been like this—cold and distant, even in the sect."

"True. He barely spares a word even for Senior Sister Xue."

"I heard he doesn’t get along with the sect leader."

"Impossible! Who told you that? The sect leader only secured his position thanks to Elder Xie’s support!"

"Really? Tell us more!"

He Lianxue had no interest in lingering. After noting down the names of participants, she donned her veil and left the courtyard with Lvluo.

The registration was set up in the main hall, a short walk from their quarters.

It had been months since she last saw Manager Lu after parting in Dianzhou. Even during the grand opening, amidst the bustling crowd, Manager Lu hadn’t spared her a glance.

The closer she got to the main hall, the more hesitant she became, her steps slowing.

"Miss?"

"It’s nothing." He Lianxue adjusted her veil, then paused. "Lvluo, if I promised someone something but failed to deliver, would they resent me?"

"How could they? Who could resent you?"

He Lianxue chuckled. "I’m not made of gold."

"Whatever you promise, you always try your best to fulfill. If you couldn’t, it must’ve been due to unforeseen circumstances—no one could blame you." Lvluo guessed her thoughts and reassured her, "Rather than tormenting yourself, why not just ask her directly?"

"Tormenting?" A crisp jingling of bells approached. "Who dares upset such a beauty?"

He Lianxue bowed slightly. "Greetings, Senior Lan."

"Senior? That makes me sound ancient."

"My apologies, Miss Lan."

Lan Ling blinked, then laughed. "The most beautiful woman in the martial world—truly, seeing is believing. Not only stunning, but also kind-hearted."

"You flatter me, Miss Lan. In terms of magnanimity, I pale in comparison to Manager Lu."

"You're too modest." Lan Ling glanced at her veiled hat and chuckled softly. "As the saying goes, different lands breed different people. You were born and raised in the Free and Easy Sect, so your experiences and perspectives naturally differ from Shopkeeper Lu's."

He Lianxue replied in a gentle tone, "Thank you, Miss Lan."

The three of them walked to the main courtyard.

Outside the courtyard, disciples from various sects were already lined up, along with some wandering martial artists.

Their gazes turned toward them in unison.

After the incident in Dianzhou, He Lianxue's reputation as the "Number One Beauty of the Martial World" had been tarnished.

She hadn’t cared much at first, but after being ambushed in Yongzhou, she became as skittish as a startled bird, convinced that everyone was gossiping and cursing her.

For the past two days, she had secluded herself in the small courtyard to avoid these people, yet the harassment from Bian Xingzhou, Zhao Rui, and others made even her refuge feel unsafe.

How could she ever escape this predicament?

"Miss He, I heard you excel in music. My shopkeeper has some musical scores she’d like your advice on," Tiao called out from the courtyard gate, addressing He Lianxue loudly.

Relieved to have an excuse to leave, He Lianxue inwardly sighed.

She knew Tiao’s words were just a pretext—undoubtedly arranged by Shopkeeper Lu.

"Shopkeeper Lu certainly knows how to pamper people," Lan Ling remarked with a hint of jealousy. "Little Sister Tiao, did she call for me as well?"

Tiao replied bluntly, "No."

Then she turned and re-entered the courtyard.

He Lianxue followed her into the main courtyard, while Lvluo stayed outside.

She walked across the flagstones of the front yard until she reached the covered walkway beneath the eaves. The six-paneled doors of the hall were wide open, revealing a woman seated inside.

As soon as He Lianxue stepped over the threshold, she lifted her veiled hat, revealing a face as pure and ethereal as a lotus flower. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, like ripples on autumn water, softening the hearts of all who saw her.

A beauty in distress—who wouldn’t be moved?

Lu Jianwei admired her for a moment before speaking warmly, "Miss He, please have a seat."

Tiao closed the hall doors and withdrew, joining Yue Shu outside to register the martial artists signing up for the competition.

Inside, the room was shielded from outside perception, allowing them to speak freely.

"I heard you were attacked in Yongzhou and injured," Lu Jianwei said. "If you don’t mind, let me check your pulse."

He Lianxue sat at the table and extended her fair wrist.

A slender hand rested on it briefly before withdrawing.

"Miss He, your health is excellent—no injuries or ailments," Lu Jianwei concluded. "But you’ve been overthinking lately, losing sleep and having restless dreams."

He Lianxue’s gaze was as soft as water. "Shopkeeper Lu’s medical skills are truly remarkable."

"You flatter me."

"Shopkeeper Lu, I found some leads in Cangzhou," He Lianxue said earnestly. "But while recuperating at the Martial Alliance, I realized something—the clues came too easily, as if someone was deliberately guiding me. I hesitated to tell you because I feared it might be a trap."

Lu Jianwei was genuinely impressed.

To maintain such clarity of mind despite being surrounded by adoration and praise spoke volumes of her character. If not for the Gu King still inside her, she would have made an excellent addition to the inn’s staff.

"Thank you for making the trip to Cangzhou." Lu Jianwei poured a cup of tea and slid it toward her. "Have some tea to calm your mind. Perhaps you’ll sleep better tonight."

She had added a soothing herb to the tea, ensuring He Lianxue would be in top condition before the competition.

He Lianxue assumed this was a polite dismissal and felt a pang of disappointment. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a small sip.

The fragrant aroma seemed to ease the turmoil in her heart.

Setting the cup down, she mustered her courage. "Shopkeeper Lu, you’ve seen much of the world. There’s something I can’t discuss with anyone else—may I seek your advice?"

Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. "You’re willing to share secrets with me? Aren’t you afraid I might spread them?"

He Lianxue shook her head. "I trust your integrity. When The Heroine of Qingtian and Biographies of the Eight Directions became popular, I dismissed them as rival publishers’ competition and paid little attention. After what happened in Dianzhou and Yongzhou, I realized my mistake."

"What mistake?"

"I failed to recognize the hidden danger in The Heroine of Qingtian." He Lianxue smiled bitterly. "At the time, Senior Lin’s story was also circulating. I read her biography, sympathized with her suffering, admired her resilience, and cursed the villains—then moved on."

Lu Jianwei nodded. "Most readers react that way."

"You’re right. Most people are just spectators. Only after experiencing it myself did I truly understand what it’s like to be roasted over a fire—to feel Senior Lin’s agony when she couldn’t defend herself. But I’m not as strong as she was."

Lu Jianwei reassured her, "You’re plenty strong."

"Shopkeeper Lu, did you deliberately release Biographies of the Eight Directions?"

"Yes," Lu Jianwei admitted frankly.

He Lianxue gave her a faint smile. "I lack her fortitude and your foresight. Now I’ve become a laughingstock in the martial world."

For a fleeting moment, Lu Jianwei felt a twinge of guilt.

She had been the one to take White Hair in a Night, yet He Lianxue, who merely played her flute to stop the chaos, was branded as "colluding with the Southwest’s heretics." It was an undeserved misfortune.

Given the circumstances, she couldn’t just stand by.

"Miss He, if after this competition you still wish to stay at the inn as a staff member, my doors will be open to you."

He Lianxue blinked, her beautiful eyes clouded with confusion.

"Shopkeeper Lu, what did you just say? I didn’t catch it."

"To work at the inn—"

"Really?!"

Lu Jianwei smiled and nodded. "If your feelings remain unchanged after the competition."

"They won’t! I love the inn—I want to stay here."

"Just so we’re clear, every staff member has duties to fulfill."

He Lianxue eagerly replied, "I’ll learn whatever’s needed!"

"Good." Lu Jianwei teased lightly, "Now that our musical consultation is over, Miss He, you should head back."

Lvluo had already finished registering outside, and the two of them left together.

Some martial artists in the inn disdained the competition and never showed up to sign up.

Ying Wumian was one of them.

"The competition is open even to seventh-rankers. Why won’t you participate?" Ying Chen pressed. "If only your junior brothers and sisters compete, how can you secure victory?"

Ying Wumian smiled. "My juniors are clever and capable. They won’t disappoint the alliance."

Ying Chen: "..."

His son had always sailed smoothly through life—gifted, unparalleled in swordsmanship among his peers. Outwardly, he maintained the demeanor of a courteous senior disciple, but beneath that facade lay arrogance.

Sending him to the Eight Directions Inn was meant to show him that there were always greater heights.

Yet the boy refused to take the bait.

"Wumian, overconfidence is a martial artist’s downfall," Ying Chen admonished earnestly.

Ying Wumian kept smiling. "I understand."

Ying Chen: "..."

Who could possibly rein this brat in?!

"Elder," a disciple reported from outside, "the inn just announced new rewards for the competition."

Ying Chen: "Go on."

"The top-ranked fighter in each rank will receive a priority slot to commission a custom weapon from the inn—of the same quality as the blades wielded by Young Master Xue and Hero Yan."

Ying Chen: "..."

Over the past few days, the swords of Yan Feicang and Xue Guanhe had sparked endless discussions. A weapon that perfectly suited its wielder was a rare treasure.

Now the martial artists would surely go wild.

The innkeeper of Eight Directions Inn truly has impressive methods.

The heritage of Eight Directions Inn is indeed profound.

"And what's more," the disciple's voice grew even more excited, "the one who comes out on top among their peers can continue to compete against the winners of other tiers. The ultimate victor will be rewarded by the inn with a petal of Gubaitou!"

Ying ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍Chen: !!!

A figure suddenly brushed past him, and before he could react, Ying Wumian had already stepped out of the courtyard.

"I'm going to sign up."

Ying Chen: "..."

The registration is already closed—what’s the point of going now?!